The Body is our ultimate destiny

What Remains: Why the Body Is Our Ultimate Destiny

—Yung Suk Kim, PhD

Strip away the job titles, the milestones, the accolades, and even the painful stumbles, and what are you left with?

When the noise of daily ambition fades, a quiet, undeniable truth remains: my body is the only thing that stays with me until the very end. Success will eventually leave me, or I will leave it behind. Failure, too, is a transient visitor that loses its sting over time. These metrics are fleeting social constructs—here today and redefined tomorrow. But my physical form is the constant companion of my consciousness. It is the sole medium through which I experience every breath, every joy, and every moment of existence on this earth.

Sowing Today for Tomorrow's Architecture

There is a literal, biological law at play in our everyday lives: what we sow for our body today shapes our future body. Every cell in our physical form is in a continuous state of renewal. How we nourish ourselves, how we move, how we rest, and how we handle stress today serve as the literal blueprints for how we will inhabit the world tomorrow. Caring for the body isn't merely a routine maintenance task or a superficial pursuit—it is an investment in the very architecture of our future agency.

The Myth of Separation

We often live as though the mind and body are separate—as if the mind is merely a tenant renting space in a temporary house. But human experience is deeply embodied. How we think, feel, create, and love is tethered to the vitality of our physical vessel. Tending to the body is honoring the ground upon which all our mental and emotional life rests.

Honoring the True Destiny

Realizing that our body is our ultimate destiny brings a profound sense of peace. It frees us from chasing external horizons at the expense of our health. When success and failure lose their tight grip on our self-worth, we are returned to the quiet dignity of the simple, tangible present: breathing, walking, resting, and caring.

Ultimately, taking care of you body isn't about vanity; it is about honoring the one home you are guaranteed to live in for the entirety of your life.

Reflection Question:

When you look at your daily routines today, are you sowing seeds for the body you want to inhabit tomorrow?

Silent Eloquence

Houseplants are my love,
my companions, and my inspiration.
Wordlessly,
they speak to me with eloquence.
Their beauty is unparalleled—
far beyond a thousand fine garments.
Gently, I water them,
look upon them, and feel their touch.

  

  

Day 10: Living in the Tension (The Art of Being Time-Bound)

Reflection Question

We are time-bound beings who experience both physical decay and profound cognitive hope. How does accepting your temporal limits actually free you to live more fully today?

Day 9: Memory, Narrative, and Tradition (The Living Past)

 

Day 8: Apocalyptic Time

Reflection Question:

When you let go of the idea that a future event or timeline will "fix" your current struggles, how does that change your approach to your own mental health and trauma processing today?

Day 7: Immanent Eternity

Reflection Question:

If we stop looking for the divine in miraculous interruptions and start looking for it in the ordinary laws and rhythms of life, where do you see the sacred showing up in your daily routine?

Once Again, Pistis Christou: The Case of Galatians 2:20

Yung Suk Kim, PhD

Galatians 2:20

• NA27 GREEK: ζῶ δὲ οὐκέτι ἐγώ, ζῇ δὲ ἐν ἐμοὶ Χριστός· ὃ δὲ νῦν ζῶ ἐν σαρκί, ἐν πίστει ζῶ τῇ τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ θεοῦ τοῦ ἀγαπήσαντός με καὶ παραδόντος ἑαυτὸν ὑπὲρ ἐμοῦ.
• NRSVue: "...and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."
• NIV: "...and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."
• My Translation: "...and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live in the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

What exactly does Paul mean when he uses the Greek genitive phrase pistis Christou?

Traditionally, this phrase has been rendered as an objective genitive, meaning the believer's faith in Jesus. However, critical Pauline scholarship has increasingly leaned toward the subjective genitive, translating it as Christ's faith or faithfulness.

The primary argument for this reading is that throughout his authentic letters, Paul establishes a consistent pattern of emphasizing Christ's own work and faithfulness. Paul's overarching view is that Jesus, as the Son of God, manifested God's righteousness through his own faithful obedience, not merely by being a passive object of our belief.

The Precedent in Romans
Take Romans 3:22 as a prime example. Here, we see a clear formula dividing the work: "the righteousness of God through the faith of Jesus Christ for all who believe." This phrasing suggests that the believers' faith is modeled after and dependent upon Jesus's faith.

In this single verse, there are two distinct forms of faith at play: Jesus's and the believers'. If Paul had meant only the believer's faith, appending the phrase "for all who have faith" would be entirely redundant. Furthermore, if Paul simply wanted to describe a believer's faith in Jesus, he easily could have used the prepositional phrase en (like "in" in English) combined with the noun pistis. Instead, he uses the genitive form. Romans 3:26 further reinforces this subjective reading: God justifies the one who has "the faith of Jesus," rather than the one who has "faith in Jesus."

(I have discussed these grammatical and theological points at length in my previous works, including How to Read Paul and A Theological Introduction to Paul's Letters. See my publications)

The Decisive Case of Galatians 2:20
When we bring this framework to Galatians 2:20, the verse becomes one of the most decisive indicators of the subjective genitive.

Paul’s central point here is crystal clear: he is no longer the active agent. He has been crucified with Christ, and it is now Christ who lives in him.

Notice how Paul parallels the preposition en ("in") twice: he lives "in the flesh" (en sarki) and "in the faith" (en pistei). He continues to exist physically in the flesh, but he no longer decides or acts on his own autonomous behalf. Instead, he is sustained and animated by Christ's faith and love. This is why he declares, "I live in the faith of the Son of God."

I emphasize the preposition "in" to illustrate that Paul is enveloped by and living by means of Christ's faith. Christ is living in him, empowering his very existence. If we read this verse in the traditional objective sense ("by my faith in the Son of God"), it creates a glaring theological awkwardness. How can Paul claim that his own autonomous faith is the driving force if his ego has just died on the cross and he is "no longer living"? The faith that animates the believer must be the faith of the Son of God.

Conclusion
The more I reflect on Paul's letters, the more convinced I am of the subjective sense of pistis Christou. Frankly, it is a profound theological loss if we fail to recognize the vital importance of Jesus's own faith in bringing about God's righteousness.

It is time to reconfigure Paul's theology in its proper, original context—and by doing so, we can constructively relive the faith of Christ in our own time.

Day 6: Chronos and Kairos

Reflection Question Options:

What "season" of life are you currently in, and where might you be causing yourself unnecessary suffering by fighting against it instead of practicing radical acceptance?

Publications in one page

Day 5: Time and Mental Health

 Reflection Question: 

When you feel most stressed or overwhelmed, where does your mind tend to go—are you occupied by the past, or worrying about the future? How can you gently bring yourself back to the decisive present?

Day 4: Cognitive Time

Reflection Question:
Think of a deeply meaningful memory. How do your intellect (the facts of the event), your emotion (how it felt), and your volition (how it shapes your current choices) work together to keep that past moment alive in your present?

Jesus and Paul: Shared Visions, Divergent Paths

Long ago—perhaps ten years ago—I first envisioned a book on Jesus and Paul. Since then, I have occasionally revisited the idea and even drafted an initial proposal, but I held back because the project didn’t yet feel ripe. Recently, however, the idea has resurfaced with renewed clarity and appeal. My plan is to critically examine both figures through their theological teachings, their relationship to tradition, and their core similarities and differences. Most importantly, I want to explore their distinct personalities and leadership styles.

Day 3: The Arrow of Time (Entropy and Renewal)

Reflection Question: 

If my life is a temporary "localized rebellion" against the universe's drift toward disorder, what specific kind of order, beauty, or love am I choosing to build with my limited energy today?

A new book project on science, religion, and faith

I am slowly yet steadily developing a future book project that addresses a broader scope than my previous work: the intersection of science, religion, and faith. The tentative title is The Horizon of Trust: Science, Religion, and the Practice of Faith in an Uncertain World. The fundamental objective of this book is to explore the nature of belief and trust in an age of reason and scientific dominance coupled with existential crisis. This volume demonstrates that science and faith are not mutually exclusive; instead, it reframes the discourse on faith through an interdisciplinary lens, arguing that we can—and should—hold science and faith in creative tension. Ultimately, this book seeks to answer what it means to live meaningfully in a scientific era marked by profound uncertainty.

Day 2: The Definition of Time

Reflection Question: 

If the physical universe is driven by entropy and the constant flux of anicca (impermanence), how might accepting decay and change as fundamental laws—rather than failures—alter my relationship with control and attachment?

Day 1: The Illusion of Time

Reflection Question: 

If the past has no physical reality and the future is unwritten, what power does my current, present-moment self actually hold over my life's narrative?

The Architecture of Occurrence

Yung Suk Kim, PhD

The Architecture of Occurrence: Classical Causation, Quantum Indeterminism, and the Mind

As a biblical scholar, my vocation is deeply rooted in the rigorous analysis of ancient texts, historical contexts, and the enduring quest for human meaning. However, the questions that animate our sacred traditions have never been confined to antiquity alone; they inherently demand that we stretch our thinking beyond traditional boundaries to engage the contemporary world and the wider cosmos. This reflection represents such an expansion. By looking past conventional disciplinary lines, I find myself standing at the fascinating intersection of modern physics, sociology, and philosophy. What follows is an exploration of how classical determinism, quantum indeterminism, and human community collide—inviting us to reconsider the invisible architecture that shapes our minds, our histories, and our place in a structured universe.

Nothing happens in a universe by accident. We often think an event occurs accidentally or suddenly, but strictly speaking, nothing happens apart from its structural causation. In the macroscopic cosmos, reality conforms to classical mechanics—a rigorous chain of cause and effect where physical laws dictate predictable outcomes. Yet, when we descend into the microscopic realm of quantum mechanics, we encounter absolute indeterminism. Crucially, this subatomic randomness is not lawless chaos; it is governed by precise probabilistic laws and mathematical wave functions. The cosmos paradoxically utilizes microscopic uncertainty to construct macroscopic certainty, establishing statistical probability as a fundamental physical law. To live with an informed perspective, we must recognize the profound divergence between our subjective expectations and this complex, objective reality.

How does this impact our lives today? First, we must perceive realities far vaster than ourselves and the multifaceted laws that govern them. We are active participants in a universe uniquely suspended between deterministic order and quantum probability. Even within our human communities, nothing happens without a underlying reason, though the sheer density of socio-historical variables often mimics blind chance. When we dive into the human mind, the dynamic becomes more complex still, mirroring this cosmic tension between fixed constraints and spontaneous possibility. The macro-universe of predictable effects and the micro-universe of structured randomness are intricately interwoven within human consciousness. How can we understand this vast nexus of causation and occurrence within our minds, our world, and the cosmos? By recognizing that even the existential uncertainties of life operate within a larger, mathematically elegant framework of reality, we discover a deeper grounding for our place in the universe.

Transformation at the borderlands

Today, I highlight the essay written by Daniel S. Schipani, Emeritus Professor of Pastoral Care and Counseling at Anabaptist Mennonite Biblical Seminary: "The Good News of a Struggle to Care (Matt 15:21-28)," in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Schipani analyzes the narrative through the lens of Latin American liberation hermeneutics combined with intercultural sensitivity, emphasizing the importance of openness, creative dialogue, and mutual learning at the borderlands.

Towards an Informed Faith: Redefining Time through Science and John’s Gospel

Yung Suk Kim, PhD

What exactly is time? We track it with calendars, watch it slip away on our wrists, and structure our entire lives around its steady progression. As a biblical scholar, my daily work involves exploring time through ancient texts, examining how human history, memory, and faith are bound up in chronology. Yet, I find myself deeply interested in understanding time from various other perspectives—including the rigid equations of science and cosmology.

In my view, faith or textual interpretation should never contradict science. Instead, faith can be better informed, challenged, and ultimately understood through the lens of scientific discovery. The traditional, static views of faith are simply not standing the test of modern science. Science tells us plainly that naive belief does not work; the laws of nature are consistent, and magical suspensions of these laws won't happen in our physical world. If we want a fresh, vibrant faith today, it must be an informed faith.

To be clear, this does not mean science is perfect enough to dictate faith. Science and faith simply operate in different realms of interest. Science examines physical things as they are. Faith, on the other hand, grapples with value questions and ultimate questions of where, why, or how—existential dilemmas that science cannot answer. Science cannot explain why bad people so often prosper, nor does it help a person deal with the deep suffering caused by systemic injustice. It cannot tell us how to find the courage to live in a world of profound uncertainty.

Nevertheless, science can and should enter into faith in crucial respects—especially in how we understand time. For me, that means recognizing that we experience only the present, while constantly remembering the past or reimagining the future. The past is a repository of memory, and the future is a canvas of imagination, but our existence unfolds entirely in the now. While science operationally defines time as that which is measured by a clock, a deeper look into cosmology suggests that time is not just a mechanical ticking, but the very status of reality in the present. Science anchors us in reality, helping us understand exactly who and where we are in the immediate now.

Here is a look at how our understanding of time evolves when we look through the lens of physics and cosmology, and what it means for how we live and believe today.

1. The Clockwork Universe: Absolute Time
For centuries, classical physics relied on the framework laid out by Sir Isaac Newton. In this view, time is:

• Absolute and universal: It acts as a static, unchanging background to the universe.
• Independent: It flows at the exact same rate everywhere, regardless of who is watching or what is happening.

In our daily lives, this is how we intuitively perceive time—as a steady, unyielding river that carries us along.

2. The One-Way Street: The Arrow of Time
Why can we remember the past but not the future? The answer lies in thermodynamics and the concept of entropy (a measure of disorder).

• The Second Law of Thermodynamics: In a closed system, things naturally move from a state of order to disorder.
• An Irreversible Flow: A dropped teacup shatters, but a shattered teacup never spontaneously reassembles. This relentless rise in disorder provides the "arrow of time," dictating its forward direction and mimicking our own linear experience of moving from memory into anticipation.

3. The Fabric of Reality: Einstein’s Relative Time
Albert Einstein completely transformed our understanding by proving that time is not absolute. Instead, it is deeply bound to space.

• Spacetime: Space and time are woven together into a dynamic, four-dimensional fabric.
• Time Dilation: Time is flexible. Clocks tick slower for an object moving at high speeds (Special Relativity) or positioned close to a massive gravitational body, like a planet or black hole (General Relativity). Put simply, time is a variable reality shaped by speed and gravity.

In short, physics confirms that time passes at different rates depending on where you are and how fast you are moving, shattering the illusion of a single, universal "now."

4. The Beginning of Everything: Cosmic Time
In cosmology, scientists use a standardized measure known as cosmic time to chart the history of the cosmos. This is the time experienced by a hypothetical observer moving precisely with the expansion of space.

• The Birth of Time: According to the standard Big Bang model, time itself began roughly 13.8 billion years ago.
• The Ultimate Singularity: Because the temporal dimension was created in the Big Bang, asking what happened "before" it is like asking what is north of the North Pole—the question itself loses its meaning.

5. The Ultimate Question: Is Time an Illusion?

When we try to merge the physics of the very large (relativity) with the physics of the very small (quantum mechanics), time presents a massive paradox.

• The Quantum Conflict: Quantum equations treat time as a rigid, external backdrop, while relativity treats it as a fluid fabric.
• An Emergent Property: In certain advanced theories of quantum gravity, time completely vanishes from the fundamental equations. This has led some physicists to suggest that time might be an emergent phenomenon—a macroscopic illusion arising from a deeper, timeless quantum reality.

Conclusion: Realizing the Kingdom in the Present

Whether we are looking at Einstein’s flexible spacetime or the quantum theories that suggest time is an emergent property, science shatters our rigid, traditional assumptions. It forces us to realize that time is not a mechanical clock, but the dynamic status of reality in the present.

While science provides the physical map of this present reality, faith provides the meaning. In our daily lives, we can feel this reality—the very reign of God—tangibly through the light and the wind, and through loving relationships with God and others. True love and authentic relationships go on forever; they transcend linear constraints. It is precisely in this way that we realize the kingdom of God right here, right now.

This is perhaps how the profound concept of "eternal life" in John's Gospel can be better understood. Eternal life is not a distant, future destination after we die; it is the quality of living fully in the divine presence today. When science anchors us in the present, it helps us understand our context. It frees us from a frozen past or a passive future, allowing an informed faith to answer the ultimate questions of values, meaning, and purpose. It calls us to action in the only moment we truly possess: the loving, just, and eternal now.

Crumbs are never enough!

Today, I highlight the chapter written by Katherine A. Shaner, a professor of New Testament at Wake Forest University School of Divinity: "Crumbs are Never Enough: Decentering the White Supremacist Jesus," in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Analyzing the narrative from a feminist rhetorical perspective, Shaner reveals how Matthew’s story perpetuates the logic of supremacist ideology, while honoring the wholeness and transformative power of the Canaanite woman and her community. #gospelofmatthew #feminist #rhetorical #hermeneutics #homiletics

Autumn 2026 (Richmond, VA)

It is a gorgeous day here in Richmond. Enjoy your surroundings—it’s a beautiful season.

 

 

 

Blues Hermeneutics and the Canaanite Woman

Today, I highlight the chapter written by Hugh R. Page Jr., Professor of Theology and Africana Studies at the University of Notre Dame: "The Matthean Jesus and the Canaanite Blues," featured in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Page's chapter is unique in how it brings blues music culture to bear on the Canaanite woman's experience, introducing a distinctive blues hermeneutic for the marginalized. Through this lens, her cry for justice and her profound faith are powerfully heard. #blueshermeneutics #Canaanitewoman #gospelofmatthew

Poem on Earth

The Earth is beautiful

Wherever you live, you see the same wonder:

rivers, flowers, mountains, butterflies, and birds,

blue skies, rainy days, and sudden storms—

all of these hold such striking grace.

Why, then, do people look past them,

searching for things beyond their own home?

True beauty surrounds us right here.

Look up at the sky, gaze at what is around you;

you will feel and touch all good things.

Do not look for something in another place tomorrow.

The world is here.

The only thing we truly have is now and here.

Check details carefully

When I signed the contract for my edited volume, Rethinking Paul: Critical Conversations for Our World (Westminster John Knox Press), I failed to notice that my name was misspelled. Thankfully, the publisher caught the mistake, corrected it, and sent over a new copy for me to sign. It is a good reminder of how important it is to check details carefully. I am glad this was sorted out!

Challenging the colonial theology

Today, I highlight a compelling chapter by Demetrius K. Williams, Professor of Comparative Literature at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, titled “The Colonial Christ, the Canaanite Woman, and the Crumbs of Insufficiency” in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Williams analyzes the narrative from an African American postcolonial perspective, challenging the colonial theology that constructs a savior figure who demands subordination as a prerequisite for inclusion. Furthermore, he underscores the Canaanite woman's defiant, transgressive faith as an empowering model for her daughter and marginalized communities.

My vocation as a scholar

One of the most rewarding aspects of my vocation as a scholar is editing collective volumes. These projects allow me to spearhead less developed fields or reinforce specific areas of interest by bringing together formidable scholars for a crucial endeavor. While my fifth edited volume, Rethinking Paul, is currently underway, I have already conceived of a new project tentatively titled Reading Scripture, Reading the Self: Critical Autobiographical Interpretation. I have recruited eight exceptional scholars who will bring their lived experiences to bear on the biblical texts.

A Womanist Reading of Matthew 15:21-28

Today, I want to honor Mitzi Smith, a professor of New Testament at Columbia Theological Seminary, and highlight her essay, "A Womanist Reading of the Canaanite Woman (Matt 15:21–28): Dehumanization, and the Politics of Respectability and Inclusion," featured in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Smith explores the Canaanite woman's faith from a womanist perspective, challenging the ideologies of inclusion and respectability applied to the marginalized. She powerfully argues that true faith is never a weapon used to subdue others.

Queer Interpretation

Today, I highlight Rhiannon Graybill’s chapter, "Love Makes a Family: Queer Kinship in Ruth," from my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Graybill, a professor of Hebrew Bible at the University of Richmond, explores queer interpretations of the text while resisting fixed definitions. She ultimately challenges readers to remain attentive to the nuances and complexities of queer kinship throughout the story of Ruth. #bookofruth #queerreading #homiletics #interpretation

When It Rains, We Meander: The Quiet Call to Look Inside

There is a profound reason why a rainy day turns our thoughts inward, pulling us into a space of quiet sentimentality. As gray skies dim the natural light, a gentle biological shift occurs: our serotonin dips while melatonin rises, lowering our emotional volume and nudging us toward introspection. Simultaneously, the steady, low-frequency rhythm of falling rain acts as a natural sedative, slowing our heart rates and triggering an evolutionary instinct to seek shelter, let our guard down, and pause from the frantic pace of the outside world. Cloistered safely indoors, the physical world grows quiet, and the scent of petrichor—the earthy aroma of rain hitting dry soil—unlocks the brain's deepest memory centers. In this beautifully suspended moment, free from immediate distractions, our minds naturally meander backward, transforming a simple weather event into a deeply restorative, nostalgic journey.

Decolonizing Ruth: Postcolonial African Perspectives

Today, I highlight a chapter by Robert Wafawanaka, a Hebrew Bible professor at Virginia Union University: "Decolonizing Ruth, Reading and 'Un-reading' Ruth with African Eyes: Masculinity, Disability, and Survival," from my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. Wafawanaka brings a postcolonial Zimbabwean perspective to the text, exploring the intersections of ancient tradition, modern African contexts, masculinity, disability, and survival. Viewing Naomi and Ruth as victims of a male-dominated world, he powerfully argues that women should be empowered to thrive without being shackled by patriarchal traditions.

Faith Cannot Fabricate Facts

Faith cannot fabricate facts. Faith is not a panacea. While it has positive functions, we must also caution against uninformed claims that contradict clear evidence or science. In many cases, faith's primary function is to shape how we respond to reality.

Revisiting My Review of Paul Was Not a Christian: Why It’s a "Half Success"

When I first reviewed Pamela Eisenbaum’s provocative book, Paul Was Not a Christian: The Original Message of a Misunderstood Apostle, for the Review of Biblical Literature, I walked away with a mixed verdict. It is a book I frequently recommend for its historical grounding, but one where I must firmly draw the line at its core theological conclusion. I call the book a "half success."

Where I Fully Agree: Restoring Paul to Second Temple Judaism

Eisenbaum masterfully hits the mark when it comes to Paul’s identity. As I noted in my review, she successfully demonstrates that Paul lived and died an unambiguous Jew. He never abandoned Judaism, never rejected the Torah, and never intended to found a new religion in opposition to his heritage.

She also does a brilliant job critiquing the traditional Western, post-Reformation lenses (influenced deeply by Augustine and Luther) that project an anachronistic "introspective conscience" onto Paul's letters. Paul's mission can—and should—be understood through the framework of radical Jewish monotheism and covenant theology.

 

Where I Must Disagree: The "Two-Ways Salvation" Problem

Where the book falls short for me is its insistence on a "two-ways salvation" model. Eisenbaum claims that because the Jews are already justified through the covenant, they have no theological need for Christ—meaning Jesus is strictly an expiation for lawless Gentiles. 

To be absolutely clear: Paul did not exempt Jews from needing Christ.

As a Pauline scholar, I find Eisenbaum's "two-ways" position scripturally unsustainable. Paul’s letters consistently stress the word "all". Both Jews and Greeks are under the power of sin (Rom 3:9), meaning no group is exempt from the need for redemption. Furthermore, Paul’s deep personal anguish in Romans 9:2–3 over his fellow kindred who had not accepted Christ makes absolutely no sense if he viewed Christ as merely an optional path for the Jewish people. While Paul certainly did not require Gentiles to become Jewish to enter God's household, he absolutely maintained that Christ is the fulfillment and Lord of all—Jews and Gentiles alike (1 Cor 8:6, Rom 10:4).

The Missing Context: Pistis Christou and the Roman Empire
Furthermore, I find Eisenbaum's view of Christ’s faithfulness (pistis christou) to be far too restrictive. By confining it strictly to a theological expiation on the cross, she sacrifices the vital sociopolitical, historical, and counter-imperial context of the Gospel. Christ’s faithfulness was a transformative message of peace and justice that directly challenged Caesar’s kingdom.

 
Because this is left out, the concept of a believer's "participating faith"—how Gentiles actually live out and emulate that transformative faith in their daily lives under empire—remains vastly underdeveloped in her work.

The Bottom Line

Eisenbaum succeeds in making Paul more Jewish than normally expected, but she fails to persuade me on "two-ways salvation". Nevertheless, it remains a highly valuable text for anyone looking to strip away centuries of Western bias and see Paul's apocalyptic vision clearly. 

I extensively wrote about Paul and his theology during my over 20 years of scholarship. For example, see How to Read Paul (2021, Fortress Press). 

"Invisible Labor and the Erasure of Ruth"

Today, I highlight the essay written by Song-Mi Suzie Park, a Korean American professor of Hebrew Bible at Austin Theological Seminary: "Invisible Labor and the Erasure of Ruth," featured in my edited volume, At the Intersection of Hermeneutics and Homiletics. As the essay title suggests, Park argues that despite Ruth’s rigorous labor, she remains invisible in the end—her substantial efforts unrecognized and her identity erased. She also points out an isomorphic parallel between invisible labor in ancient times and modern society, particularly in America, where many immigrants work tirelessly only to remain invisible, often at the expense of their human dignity. This is a poignant reality that calls for a critical rereading of the Book of Ruth.

A Journey of Faith, Scholarship, and Love

I see myself as an all-around scholar in the field of biblical studies. At times I write monographs; at others, I edit volumes, curating central themes and bringing diverse scholars together. I am a fervently passionate educator, dedicated to my students, and I frequently lecture for church communities, leaders, and broader audiences. Beyond scholarship, I am a poet. I love to dance, I love talking with others, and I love life itself. Ultimately, in everything I do, love remains my true life and vocation.

Reading Scripture, Reading the Self

I am working on an ongoing edited volume, Reading Scripture, Reading the Self: Critical Autobiographical Interpretation. This book will mark a distinctive juncture in biblical studies by taking the self seriously, effectively deepening and extending the foundations of contextual interpretation.

The Ultimate Hermeneutic: Why Reading Requires the Self

Autobiographical biblical interpretation culminates in the most robust and engaging hermeneutic possible because it embraces the interpreter's subjectivity as an essential asset rather than a liability. The reasons for this are manifold. First, it offers methodological freedom, holistically integrating textual, historical, and contextual elements without artificial boundaries. Second, it practices epistemological honesty; recognizing that there is no reading without a reader, it demands that the interpreter critically examine their own complex identity. Third, this self-awareness fosters a deeply authentic and vulnerable engagement with scripture. Finally, autobiographical interpretation aligns with the true purpose of hermeneutics: the goal of reading is not merely to reconstruct the ancient past, but to actively explore and generate life meaning through a transformative dialogue with the text.

At its core, critical autobiographical interpretation is a dialogical process. It is the space where the reader’s subjectivity engages directly with the text, allowing for mutual challenge and transformation. But to say it is simply a way to read is to undersell it. I argue that autobiographical interpretation is the ultimate hermeneutic—the necessary culmination of the interpretive process. Here is why interpretation is never truly finished until the self is brought to the table.

Methodological Integration: The Capstone of Exegesis
Autobiographical interpretation is often unfairly dismissed as pure subjectivism, a way of ignoring historical context or literary structure in favor of "what this means to me." But true critical autobiographical interpretation does exactly the opposite: it requires methodological integration.

It does not abandon historical-critical, literary, or linguistic methods; rather, it builds upon them. We still do the hard work of understanding the text's original context and structural nuances. However, autobiographical interpretation serves as the capstone. It takes the raw data uncovered by these traditional methods and bridges the gap between the ancient world and the modern reader, integrating rigorous scholarship with lived reality.

 
Epistemological Honesty: Abandoning the "View from Nowhere"
For a long time, the academic ideal was total objectivity—the belief that a reader could act as a blank slate, absorbing a text without any personal bias. We now know this "view from nowhere" is a myth. Every reader comes to a text with baggage: cultural background, gender, race, economic status, and personal trauma or triumph.

Autobiographical interpretation is the ultimate hermeneutic because it demands epistemological honesty. Instead of pretending our biases do not exist, we name them. By explicitly acknowledging our social location and personal experiences, we actually protect the text from hidden agendas. It is far more honest to lay our subjectivity on the table than to mask our personal interpretations as "universal, objective truth."

Authentic Engagement: The Text as a Dialogue Partner
If we only read a text for its historical data or literary form, we treat it like a dead artifact under a microscope. But profound texts—especially sacred, philosophical, or deeply artistic ones—are meant to be living dialogue partners.

Authentic engagement requires vulnerability. We cannot have a true dialogue if one party is hiding behind a wall of academic detachment. Autobiographical interpretation invites the reader to step out from behind the safety of "objective" analysis and risk something of themselves. The text asks questions of the reader just as the reader asks questions of the text. This mutual interrogation is where the true vitality of reading is found.

The True Telos of Interpretation: Information vs. Transformation
Finally, we have to ask: what is the actual goal (the telos) of reading and interpreting texts? If the goal is merely to accumulate historical trivia or master ancient languages, then traditional methods are sufficient. But if the goal of interpretation is wisdom, ethical formation, or spiritual growth, then those methods fall short on their own.

The true telos of interpretation is transformation. The reading process remains incomplete until the words on the page intersect with the flesh and blood of the reader's life. Autobiographical interpretation insists that we haven't actually finished interpreting a text until we have allowed it to challenge our assumptions, reframe our narratives, and change how we live in the world.

Quiet Companions: What My Houseplants Taught Me About Just Existing

For me, houseplants are far more than just plants. They keep me company beside my desk, constant and unwavering. They speak to me without words, smiling and dancing in moments unnoticed. I greet them every morning and whisper goodbye at night.

Caring for them is a gentle ritual. Recently, I gathered some acorns from the oak tree in my garden and placed them in the soil so my plants might find extra companionship and support. Together, we simply exist.

My role is small—just occasional watering, watching, and loving. The rest belongs to nature, as they grow through the simple gifts of sunshine, water, and earth.

  

The Decisive Difference Between Humans and AI

The Decisive Difference Between Humans and AI

A fundamental difference between human beings and artificial intelligence lies in their modes of existence. AI depends on electricity and technological infrastructure to operate, whereas human beings are self-organizing biological organisms capable of maintaining their own living processes. We do not need an external power grid to remain alive. Our minds, too, are embodied in this ongoing biological process.

Human existence is therefore not simply a matter of processing information; it is a living, self-organizing, and environmentally embedded process. While AI operates through externally powered computation, human beings live through the continuous self-organization of a biological organism and its embodied mental activity.

This distinction raises a deeper philosophical question: Is intelligence fundamentally the processing of information, or is it an activity that emerges from being alive? AI demonstrates that sophisticated information processing can occur without biological life. Yet human intelligence is inseparable from our embodied existence as living organisms. For more, see the AI page on my blog.

The Ontological Boundary

What truly distinguishes life from death is not merely the passage of time, but the act of inhabiting the present moment.

Death seals existence into a static state—an unyielding permanence where all motion ceases, choices end, and the narrative is forever closed. It does not place us into an eternity we inhabit, but rather strips us of our capacity to change. What has been can no longer become otherwise.

Life, by contrast, is inherently unfinished and exists exclusively in the fluid realm of the "now." While the past survives as memory and the future opens as expectation, neither can be accessed except through the present. We remember in the present, hope in the present, and act in the present. Therefore, the current moment is the sole territory where consciousness, agency, and possibility reside.

To live fully is to actively participate in the dynamic friction of this unfinished existence. Memory and foresight must serve what is still possible right now. When we instead drift continuously into past regret or future anticipation, treating our lives as already settled or not yet begun, we surrender to a "pseudo-eternity"—a static state that mimics death while we are still breathing.

Living in the present is not simply a mindfulness exercise; it is the fundamental ontological boundary between being and non-being. It is the only space where a choice can still be made, the story remains open, and life asserts itself against the vast finality of death.

The Rawness of the Soul: Why Truth Needs No Eloquence

Truth is rarely dressed in beautiful language. While masters of eloquence can easily manipulate words to sound profound, polish often masks a lack of substance. If we cannot trust beautiful words, what can we trust? The answer lies in the rawness of human expression—in the utterance of a deep, uncovered soul.

This tension between elegance and authenticity is perfectly illustrated in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:9–14). The Pharisee offers a long, well-articulated prayer of thanksgiving. He is not necessarily a hypocrite; he is a genuinely moral person who fasts, tithes, and follows the law. Yet, his polished prayer overflows with pride. In his presence at the Temple, he shows a profound lack of humility and empathy toward a tax collector who stands behind him. In contrast, the tax collector offers no eloquent preamble. He speaks only a few raw words: "God, have mercy on me, a sinner" (Luke 18:13).

The defining difference is self-awareness. Truthful words require a deep soul that sees itself clearly and stands humbly before the divine. Truth does not need a grand vocabulary; it is best expressed in concise moments of absolute vulnerability.

Long ago, the ancient Chinese sage Laozi captured this exact paradox in Chapter 81 of the Dao De Jing: “Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful.” True language transcends mere rhetoric. It is not measured by the elegance of the tongue, but by the raw honesty embedded in the spirit.